What Happens
by ThatHydrokinetic
Summary: What happens when a spell gone wrong sends eight of our favorite heroes from four of our favorite series into the Hunger Games? First fic. Rated 'T' for violence. Contains PJO, HG, MR, TMI & Divergent.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a story of how TMI, PJO, Divergent, MR, and THG came together.**

* * *

Annabeth sat up in bed as she heard a bell toll in the distance. The sight awaiting her did more than wake her up; it sent panic running along her spine.

She sat in a plain, 10x10 room, furnished simply with a cot and a tiny dresser. She wore a thin night gown, and, considering the fact that it was winter back home, should feel much too cold. But this place was anything but home. She peeked out the tiny window and saw a field of grain with people harvesting; but what shocked her was, even though all people able to walk were outside, there seemed to be no one between the ages of thirteen and seventeen working.

A soft knock at the door yanked Annabeth out of her thoughts. "Anna, honey, the Reaping is about to start. You ought to get dressed," someone called and jiggled the doorknob. After a moment, the voice sighed in defeat. "Be down in ten minutes." Quiet footsteps padded away from the door.

Confused and worried, Annabeth spotted a dress she hadn't originally noticed on the ground next to a pair of flats. The dress was a light tan color, and hugged her body before flaring out into a skirt that ended at her knees. She wasn't much for dresses, for they made it harder to fight, but something told her that she didn't really have a choice in the matter. Silently, she slipped it on, surprised to find that it fit. Same goes for the flats, though they pinched uncomfortably at the toes as she wasn't used to wearing them. Once finished, she walked out the bedroom door to try and find out what was going on.

She wandered the house a bit only to find that it was small and cramped, the walls for the most part bear. There were only two bedrooms, and one bathroom. The kitchen held a tiny stove and a table, at which a woman Annabeth didn't recognize sat drinking what she assumed to be tea. Upon entering, the woman looked up, set her cup down, and smiled. "Annabeth, darling, you look magnificent. Now we must do something with your hair. Go to the bathroom and get the brush, and I'll braid it." Complying, Annabeth wandered to the bathroom, grateful for her earlier curiosity. Under normal circumstances, she would be panicking, but her instincts told her to lay low and get a feel for the battleground. If there was to be a fight, she wanted to know what she was up against. And besides, this lady seemed anything but vicious. _Looks can be deceiving,_ a voice whispered, and albeit a reasonable one, Annabeth quickly squashed it. No panicking yet.

Once she came back to the table, the lady instructed her to kneel. The brush tugged on knots as it ran through her golden blond hair, and soon her knees became sore from lack of blood circulation. Annabeth allowed herself to think through the questions that had been plaguing her since she woke up; like how she got here, for instance, or where Percy was. They had only started dating a few months ago, but as they had been fighting partners for many years before that, she knew he would be worrying about her disappearance.

Another bell tolled, and the woman cursed. "They're calling you. You'd best head out." Standing, she turned Annabeth around and hugged her, much to her surprise. "Good luck my darling, and may the odds be ever in your favor." She chuckled, as if this was a joke they often shared. "Go, and please come back."

* * *

Fang awoke to a loud pounding on the door of the room where he lay, which didn't even remotely resemble the tree he had fallen asleep in. He immediately sprang out of bed and to the door, ready for any assailant awaiting him.

What he wasn't ready for was the small girl on the other side.

"Come on, Fangy, daddy says you have to get up. The Re-re…" the child trailed off as she tried to remember the word her dad uses for today. She knew it always made him sad, and that one of her friends usually didn't come to school the next day because something had happened to one of their siblings, but everyone had blatantly refused to explain exactly _why _this day was always a depressed occasion. At six, there were many things people refused to explain to her, like why her cow wasn't eating anymore.

Fang glanced at the newcomer, unable to tear his eyes off her. He'd never seen her before in his life, let alone told her his name. As she turned and skipped away, he spun back inside the room and closed the door. Fearing that this was a simulation from the School, he turned and plucked a secondary feather from his obsidian-black wings, wincing at the sudden yet familiar sting that shot through them. Since none of them had ever had wings, it was virtually impossible for them to replicate the exact pain it caused. Defeated, he sighed, at a complete loss to explain the situation.

The girl opened the door to his room, and giggled. "Fang," she whined, "Dad says they're gonna call the names in an hour, and that you should hurry, so you can eat."

* * *

Tobias stood in the town center of a place he'd never been before, lost and confused. As soon as he'd set foot out the house he'd woken up in, he felt a deep foreboding, not unsimilar to what he used to feel every time his father entered his house. He hadn't felt like this since he left Abnegation for Dauntless.

They'd rushed him to a line where people in white were pricking fingers and taking blood samples. The entire process wasn't unfamiliar, but the reason seemed to be. A mutual excitement rippled throughout the plaza as people rushed throughout the pristine area. More white-clad militants with guns spread out around the edge of where large screens showed pictures of what seemed to be a battle. A woman-who looked stupider than the Erudite and wore brighter colors than of an over-excited Amity-stood up on stage, and every one fell into a hushed and anxious silence.

"Welcome, welcome, to the 74th Hunger Games," murmurs rippled quickly before dissolving again. "Before we start, I would like to show you a little video from your friends at the Capitol." Tobias could've sworn the temperature dropped twenty degrees when she said that.

For a while, he didn't listen; instead, he directed his attention to the guards surrounding the ring, taking in account the power of the weapons and the odds of him winning, should a fight arise. He didn't like his chances.

But he was ripped out of his thoughts when and excited energy dispersed through the crowd, similar to when they were getting to the good part of a movie, "…freedom has a cost. When the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation, we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed, that each year, the various districts of Panam would offer up, in tribute, one young man and woman, to fight to the death, in a pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice." Tobias was shocked. A fight to the death? Fights had always been rough back home, but they'd been encouraged not to kill, just injure. And all this talk about tributes was making him think of all the history lessons they'd been taught in school about fallen civilizations. Was it possible that he got sucked into the past?

"I love that video," the lady at the front said. "Now, may the reaping begin. Ladies first." She stepped over to the bowl, heels clacking on the marble as she made her way over to a giant glass bowl filled with small pieces of paper, and plucked one from the pile. Dramatically, she took a deep breath before announcing, "Maximum Ride."

Yells and curses erupted from the girls' side as a tall, thin girl was shoved out into the small area that was void of people. She didn't look any older than 15, but the hard set of her jaw and determined stance told Tobias that fights to the death weren't all that new for her.

"Hello, dearie. Alright then, onto the boys." Again with the theatrics, she clopped over to the boys' bowl and stuck her hand in before slowly pulling out a single sheet of off-white paper. He should have anticipated the name on it.

"Tobias Eaton."

Magnus Bane cursed as he looked around at the mess he'd created. Some numbskull had paid him to do a spell, saying it was something important and highly classified. Even though he knew the man had been lying, Magnus had been extremely intrigued by the new magic, and had wanted to see what the effects were. Turns out he had sent Clary and Jace, along with six others, each from their own realities, to the future of yet another reality. The Clave was going to have his hide for this, but that'd be nothing compared to what the other warlocks will do when they find out he'd unintentionally sent eight heroes to their deaths.

He set to work cleaning up his house, _without_ magic, as the incantation had drained him of that as well. It'd be a while before he'd be able to cast another spell, let alone reverse the one that might be the death of them all.

* * *

**Big thanks to anyone who read that. Cookie for anyone who can guess the districts. (::)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi! So here is a basic timeline of everyone-**

**Maximum Ride-After****_ Final Warning._**

**Divergent-Before the serum in ****_Divergent_**

**The Mortal Instruments-After ****_City of Glass_**

**Percy Jackson-After The Last Olympian**

**And then for The Hunger Games it's set in the first book. Enjoy!**

* * *

Fang wandered about the group of 15-year-olds, trying to understand why everyone had gone shock-still while the lady's hand hovers over the glass bowl. He tugged uncomfortably at the light brown shirt he had been forced into and pulled his wings even tighter into his body as everyone around him shuffled uncomfortably at the languid pace the lady was moving. Finally, she pulled a small piece of paper a read off the name, "Clarissa Fray," and a short girl, especially by Fang's standards, with fiery red hair, marched up to the stage, her face betraying a fearful expression. He was not at all surprised when his name was called, as it is just the way of the world. They were instructed to shake hands, and then were led behind a thick gray curtain. The girl, Clary, scowled at him. "If you know who's behind this, so help me, I will kill you."

"Good to meet you too," Fang muttered sarcastically. Her scowl just darkened, and just when he was sure she'd attack him, the frilly lady from earlier walked up to them.

"Making friends I see!" she said, her pale blue skin and tall hair bouncing with every movement and making her look almost like an experiment from the School. Not only was she slow and eccentric, she was also oblivious to the venomous looks passed between Clary and Fang.

Clary was extremely confused. She'd gone to bed in her own room only to wake up in some strange town, she'd been chosen for a fight to the death with a bunch of perfect strangers, 24 as near as she can figure. She was barely a decent fighter, and hardly one without a weapon of some sort. The guy who'd also been picked from here was tall and lanky; seeming entirely out of place in the light colors he'd been dressed in. He had eyes so dark that at first she had been convinced he was a demon, but his manner and lack of talking had put her down a bit, as demons tended to be hard to shut up when against Shadowhunters, cocky little spirits that they are.

Though this guy did seem to have the cocky part down.

"Do either of you have any family to visit?" the woman asked. Fang really needed to get her name down. Both he and the red-head shook their heads. The lady clapped. "Excellent! Then we shall proceed immediately. Come along."

* * *

Percy was slumped up against a wall, the sea hammering on the sand to his right. The inhumanity of this entire place was intoxicating, not to mention the fact that he was even here confused the heck out of him. He wished Annabeth were next to him, spouting facts about the architecture or anything to get his mind off his throbbing headache.

A girl dressed in green dress came over and stood next to him. "You look as out of it as I feel," she said. "Headache?" Percy just nodded. "Sucks. What's your name?"

Percy turned to look at her. She was short and thin, and in a way, looked like Annabeth. She had grey eyes, which were lighter and bluer than Annabeth's; with long curly-ish hair that was a couple shades darker than hers. Near her collarbone, he saw the tip of what looked to be a bird tattoo poking past the edge of the dress. "Percy," he answered. "Yours?"

Hushed silence cut through the crowd in front of them, tearing their attention away from the conversation. A man stood up on the stage, skin green and etched with silver. In his hand he held a piece of paper. "The female tribute from district four is…Beatrice Prior!" The girl next to me winced, and groans of disappointment erupted from the crowd.

"Well Percy, sure was nice to meet you. Excuse me while I go to a fight to the death," she said, and disappeared into the crowd. Once she was on stage, the man announced the male tribute, whom turned out to be no other than Percy himself. He wasn't as surprised as he should be. In fact, he had already made it halfway through the crowd before the man had called it out. People shot him looks, ranging anywhere from morbid curiosity to murderous. With a sickening feeling, he realized that they were jealous that he was chosen to fight to the death rather than them. This world was even more grisly than he had originally perceived.

* * *

Annabeth was called up onto a stage by a women dressed in the most ridiculous clothes she'd ever seen. Her entire complexion was a pale pink, and hair dyed to match. She'd seen some absurd things in her time, like a centaur in a prom dress, but this entire situation took the cake for sure. Everyone in the audience was shaking with anxious anticipation as the lady at the front called Annabeth's name. She had already figured it would happen, because why else would she be here, if not to participate? Her opponent from this 'district', as she had heard it called, was a boy named Jonathan Lightwood; a cocky seventeen-year-old with straw-colored hair and oddly golden eyes. Annabeth knew she wasn't one to talk, what with her gray ones, but still, they were weird. He had a look that said no-matter-how-bad-you-think-you-are-I-promise-I'm-worse. Like she said, cocky.

Jace looked the new girl up and down. She had seemed entirely unsurprised when taken up to the stage, much like he had been. Her hair was long and curly, and her unnatural gray eyes seemed calculating and cold. He didn't miss the kitchen knife tucked next to her side, as he too had slipped one into his waistband. She was either like him, here without warning, or she was with the people who put him here. Knowing his enemies, the latter was probably true. The only thing that kept him sane was the knowledge that his stele was next to his knife and that Clary was okay.

* * *

Tobias and Maximum were ushered into a train car after the reaping. The entire set up was very lavish and ornate, and extremely excessive. The majority of the layout was onyx or silver, and there was technology that he'd never seen before. He figured this wasn't the past.

Maximum, or Max, as he soon learned he preferred, cold and distant, not letting on about anything. As far as he could tell, she'd refused to wear a dress to the reaping, and kept muttering something about a flock, a fang, and an angel. It's weird.

Max hated this whole 'not knowing' thing. It was like being around Jeb again, cryptic-ness and secrecy and pretending it was all for the best. Everyone here was extravagant and flowery, two things that annoyed her to all get-out. This Tobias guy, who was here opponent here (or one of many), seemed really strong and knowledgeable about weapons. That was one advantage he had here. Max was good with hand-to-hand fighting, but not so much when it came to guns and knives.

Once on the train, they were told to sit in front of a TV and watch the reapings from the other districts. The first three were uneventful; the people in one had weird names, like Glimmer and Marvel. During four though, she saw Tobias's back arch when the girl was called; a small, blond girl who didn't seem anything like Tobias. The boy was lanky, with green eyes and windswept black hair. His name was weird too, Perseus or something. Max remained uninterested, until they reached ten. _Fang_ was called. Why couldn't it just be her? Now she had to fight her best friend in a battle to the death. Great.


End file.
